


Fire and Ice

by archaeologist_d



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fisting, Angst and Porn, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Falling Through Ice, Gang Bang, Ice, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Snow and Ice, agnst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-11 23:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19552927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaeologist_d/pseuds/archaeologist_d
Summary: After Merlin fell in the icy lake, the knights had to do what anyone would, take off their clothes and keep Merlin warm.





	1. Chapter 1

By the time they’d rescued Merlin from the ice-filled lake, he’d stopped shivering. His clothes, frozen and stiff, were hellish to remove, and the knights finally had to use knives to saw them off. But with the winter storm swirling snow and sleet, the winds howling, they couldn’t get a fire going. Frozen to the core, his lips turning blue, there was little else they could do but…

Remove their cloaks under a sheltering pine, strip off their own clothes and go skin-to-skin with Merlin huddled under a wealth of wool and bodies. A great mass of heat and flesh, each one in their turn trying to warm him up.

When he started to smile, humming contentedly, his lips turning a sweet pink, his cheeks flushed with something more than warmth, they knew they’d done what they could. If skin was rubbed just so, and there were moans and sticky bits and pleasure, well who was to know.

It was to save his life after all. 

And each one of them hoped that next time, they wouldn’t need an excuse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets a hint.

After that, Merlin would shiver at the slightest touch, Percival ruffling his hair, Gwaine leaning in, whispering nonsense into his ear, Leon gripping Merlin’s arm after a long day of training, Elyan dragging fingertips across Merlin’s neck as they passed in the hallway, even Lancelot bumping shoulders with him, sending Merlin that secret satisfied smile.

Arthur didn’t know. No one had dared mention what had happened that awful, wonderful day to him.

But Merlin could see that Arthur watching the knights, then looking to Merlin for his reaction, seeing Merlin’s slight shiver and the hunger in his eyes and frowning at the knights when it turned heated.

Arthur started to send Merlin on errands far from lingering looks and soft caresses. He gave the knights extra training, leaving them too exhausted to even think about want or lust or anything but sleep. And instead, it was Arthur whose touch lingered, Arthur who bumped shoulders or ruffled hair, Arthur who crowded out everyone else in Merlin’s path.

It was Arthur who made Merlin shiver.

Merlin could only hope that some day Arthur would shiver back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: lots of porn, really. Look away if you don't like reading that kind of thing.

Arthur knew that something was up, just by the way the knights kept watching Merlin when they thought Arthur wasn’t looking - Leon following the loose sway of Merlin’s fingertips as he told a story, Elyan offering him the choicest piece of rabbit sizzling on the fire, Lancelot’s not-so-secret smile, Percy slowly ruffling Merlin’s hair. Even Gwaine would give Merlin the first swallow of his wineskin, then lick at the spot where Merlin’s lips had touched.

And Merlin’s eyes would widen, then darken, then he’d send a glance Arthur’s way before looking down at his boots, as if there was something to hide and he could not bear for Arthur to know.

It all came to head on patrol when, as he came back from seeing to the horses, he saw Merlin’s head bent in the firelight, Gwaine hot against Merlin’s ear, whispering about fire and ice. Merlin gave a little shiver, then moved closer, their shoulders touching, Gwaine’s hand hard on Merlin’s hip. The other knights were leaning in, too, watching them both, all eyes dark, their mouths open and hungry. Breathing, breathing, as if waiting for a signal to pounce.

When Arthur came into the light, they suddenly looked busy, all except Gwaine whose fingertips started circling Merlin’s thigh, holding him captive. Gwaine didn’t move away, watching Arthur in silent challenge.

When Arthur didn’t say anything, just stood there, towering over them both, Gwaine merely smiled, then leaned in and began to suck on Merlin’s neck.

Merlin’s eyes darted up to Arthur’s, then whatever he saw there must have disappointed him because he didn’t push Gwaine away, instead let out a low groan, shivering as Gwaine’s hands roamed over his chest, and into the crease of his thigh. The others jolted almost as one, Leon’s licking his lips, Percy staring at Merlin’s mouth, Lancelot closing his eyes and breathing hard, Elyan rubbing one fingertip over his lower lip.

Arthur couldn’t believe that he was seeing this, that Merlin was actually flushed, his cheeks pink with heat, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he let Gwaine explore him.

“What the hell is going on here?” Arthur said, hard and loud and furious.

Gwaine gave a little laugh, sweeping a hand down Merlin’s chest as he said, “Well, Princess, when people love each other very much….”

Merlin pushed Gwaine’s hand away. “Gwaine! That’s not….”

But Gwaine was persistent. His hand came up to cradle Merlin’s cheek, then looking Merlin straight in the eyes, he said, “You need this, Merlin. We need this. We’ve waited long enough for him to get his head out of his arse and he hasn’t and we have. We will.”

Merlin shook his head, then looked up at Arthur. “I don’t….”

“Trust me,” Gwaine said.

Merlin sat there a moment, staring at Gwaine, obviously trying to decide what to do, then he finally nodded.

Gwaine’s grin turned heated. He nuzzled back into Merlin’s neck, then turned his head toward Arthur, his cheek still resting on Merlin’s skin. His hands were busy exploring those hidden places that can excite, can madden into pleasure as he said, “We’re going to pin you down, Merlin, thrust into you until your eyes roll up and you can barely breathe, and when I’ve emptied into you, Leon might be next or Elyan or sweet Lance. Or maybe Percival filling you with that huge cock of his, loosening you for the rest of us. And when we’re done, each of us, we’ll do it again until you can’t remember your name, can’t remember anything but how much you wanted this. And Arthur can watch because that’s all he’ll ever do.” He smiled up at Arthur. “Isn’t that right, Princess?”

That made Arthur furious. Just because he’d never acted in such a way didn’t mean he didn’t want Merlin. He did but he thought it wouldn’t be right, not without Merlin’s consent.

“Merlin… Merlin, is this what you want?” Arthur said.

He expected Merlin to say no, that it was all some kind of game or vast joke at Arthur’s expense.

But instead, Merlin nodded, then breathed out, hard and heavy as Gwaine’s hand pushed across his clothed cock.

Arthur had to step back before he punched Gwaine, before he fought them all off. If this is what Merlin wanted, then he’d not interfere, but he would watch, not for pleasure but to make sure Merlin wasn’t being coerced or hurt.

They must have seen something in Arthur’s eyes or the way he stepped aside. Within moment, cloaks were spread out, a virtual carpet of them over the hard ground, and Gwaine began to strip Merlin, Leon helping with Merlin’s belt, Lance removing the neckerchief, Percy’s hand cradling Merlin as they laid him down. Elyan’s hand brushed against the ivory of Merlin’s chest and Arthur could hear the hitch of Merlin’s voice, soft and low and frantic. There were boots and breeches and skin revealed, Merlin laying there naked, and each of the knights, taking their own clothes off, all the while kissing some part of Merlin, fingertips, throat, a nipple, his ankle, the skin behind his knee, and their fingertips dancing closer, too, toward his cock, and that waiting entrance.

Elyan produced oil, they must have planned it somehow, and he coated his fingers with it, and pushed them one at a time into Merlin.

Merlin gave a hard groan which Gwaine kissed away, and Percy, already huge, was rubbing his cock against Merlin’s. Elyan kissed Percy, then, and Arthur saw Lance mouthing at Leon’s throat and he knew that it wasn’t just Merlin who would be driven into ecstasy. It seemed like a mound of flesh and moans and hard thrusts, all of them touching, tasting, wanton and frenzied with each other.

Gwaine was the first after all, pushing into Merlin.

Arthur looked closer, watching Merlin’s face as he took Gwaine in. No pain there, but frowns of lust, his eyes rolling back and he was groaning with each thrust. Percy, too, was hard against Gwaine, his cock pushing into the seam between belly and cock, and then he seemed to swallow Merlin’s groans as he shoved his tongue down, down Merlin’s throat.

Merlin’s hands were trapped, too, by hands guiding him to wrap around cocks and chests, his fingers captured, held there against flesh. A willing prisoner to pleasure.

Arthur could only watch. His hands curling, wanting to touch Merlin, to feel what the others were feeling, to know the warmth of Merlin’s mouth, and Merlin’s cock coating Arthur’s stomach with come. To know how hot Merlin felt as he took Arthur in.

It seemed to go on forever. Gwaine was skilled, Arthur had to admit, and he’d draw Merlin close to his breaking point, then slow a little, letting Merlin catch his breath, before thrusting harder, driving him back towards the precipice. All the while, the others were kissing Merlin or shoving their cocks against his mouth, him taking them in or chasing their pleasure with his tongue, and moaning nonsense as Gwaine drove into him. Myriad hands busy on Merlin’s body and mouths and teeth everywhere.

At long last, Merlin cried out, spilling out his lust into the chests of those surrounding him. As Gwaine rose up, his hand lingering on Merlin’s spent cock, it was Percy’s turn to thrust into Merlin and then Elyan and Leon and Lance, one after another, filling him full to overflowing, over and over again until Arthur lost count of how many times Merlin had been fucked.

Gwaine was sitting back, hair lanky with sweat, rubbing come into his belly, watching Arthur, a smile of satisfaction. “He’ll take you, Princess, take you in. Slide into that warm heat or you could use his mouth. He’s wet and willing and all it takes is for you to bend a moment.” He looked down at Merlin who was lost in pleasure, his eyes rolling back, his hands held captive by the others as once again Percy thrust deep inside. 

He looked used and filthy and Arthur wanted him so much it was like a fire inside his belly.

But he shook his head. “Not this way, not when he’s so far gone, he won’t know it’s me.”

Shaking his head, Gwaine said, “He’ll always know it’s you. It always has been you.” 

With that, Arthur looked up, scowling. “How can you do this to someone you love? Sharing him like this, wanton and debauched and wrecked.”

Gwaine shrugged. “It’s what he wants. That’s all that ever counts.” Gwaine got up and moved over. Percy let out a final groan, and Merlin’s hands frenzied against his capturers were set free. Gwaine settled in when Percy finished, looking down at Merlin.

Gwaine whispered into Merlin’s ear, too quiet for Arthur to hear, but Merlin just moaned, nodding, agreeing to whatever would come next.

Gwaine’s hands were not gentle, rubbing hard against Merlin’s flesh, trying to wring one last bout of ecstacy out of him, but Merlin could barely move with all the times he’d taken the knights in, and the times he’d come in orgasmic delight, pleasure mixed with what looked to Arthur as pain. This time, Gwaine did more than thrust into Merlin as the others had. Instead, he took his hand, pushed one finger in, then two, then three, searched for something deep inside. When he found it, Gwaine smiled, then leaned down to suck Merlin’s hardening cock.

Merlin was panting, groaning, begging for him to stop, for him to keep going, that he couldn’t take it any more, that he wanted to finish it, that he wanted it all.

Gwaine pulled back, then thrust a fourth finger in, pushing, pushing, and then it was five and Arthur couldn’t believe that Gwaine’s hand was in Merlin, twisting. It looked almost as if Gwaine were trying to crawl inside. Arthur could see the movement of Gwaine’s fist there, as Merlin begged him for more.

Crying out at last, the pleasure seeming to mix with agony, Merlin’s hand was frantic in Gwaine’s hair and his other hand pushing Gwaine’s deeper, deeper inside, and Gwaine was swallowing Merlin’s cock whole, sucking, thrusting, pulling ecstasy out of Merlin.

It was more that Arthur thought Merlin could handle, he was just about to put a stop to it, but the next instant, Merlin’s eyes rolled up, his body arching, wild and shaking, and he let out a low, pained cry as Gwaine gave a final long suck, then let go and sat up, hand still inside, and watched Merlin come yet again.

As Merlin lay there, dazed and exhausted, Gwaine turned his fist, then slowly pulled it out, fingers wiggling as he withdrew, Merlin grunting as he did. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock, and came all over Merlin’s belly.

There was a moment of quiet.

Gwaine leaned down, his hand mixing his and Merlin’s come in a slow swirl, then he gave Merlin a final kiss, thrusting a hot tongue and filthy fingers inside Merlin’s mouth until Merlin gave a little moan of protest, and with one last thrust of his tongue, Gwaine rolled away to slump against a sleeping Lance, finally done. 

The knights were sprawled across the cloaks, filthy with come and oil and marks of pleasure on their skin but it was Merlin that looked as if he’d been ravished.

In the early morning light, Arthur could see Merlin had bite marks everywhere, and there was come leaking out of his entrance, red and puffy, and he was whimpering a little. It was hard to tell if it was from pain and not the remnants of pleasure, but Arthur didn’t care.

He took a cloth and began to clean Merlin off, gently, carefully. All the while, whispering so softly that only Merlin should have been able to hear him. “You idiot. You’re going to be sore for a month and don’t think I’m going to let you have a day off. I’m going to give you even more chores, and if they even look at you the wrong way, I’ll have them in the stocks until their cocks fall off.” As Merlin stared up at him, dazed and exhausted, Arthur said, “You didn’t have to do this. I could have….”

Merlin lifted his hand, slowly, looking as if he didn’t have enough energy to breathe, and laid it over Arthur’s. His voice was rough with what had happened, but Merlin, as ever, was stubborn as a mule. He said, “Arthur, don’t blame them. I… wanted to feel it all. They… understand, I think, about… what I need.”

Arthur was horrified. “What do you need, Merlin? Because it looked to me as if they hurt you and you liked it.”

Grimacing a little as he moved, looking away from Arthur as if ashamed of what he’d done, what they’d done to him, Merlin said, “I want something I can’t have… and this is a way of dealing with that.” He turned back to Arthur. “It makes me… feel alive.”

Much as Arthur wanted to deny it, Merlin would never lie to him about something so important. He felt helpless to make things better for him. Still he had to try. “You could have come to me. I would have helped with whatever this is. I would have understood.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Merlin shook his head, closed his eyes. He looked miserable. “You’re the Prince of Camelot and you’ve told me often enough that I’m just a lowly servant, good for washing socks and mucking out stables and not much else. The worst servant in the Five Kingdoms. Never a friend, never a confidant, never anything more than a peasant serving a prince.” Wincing a little, Merlin said, “At least with them, I know I’m wanted, if only for a little while.”

“So you’re not going to tell me then about what’s troubling you? You could tell them but not me?” Arthur said.

When Merlin curled inward a little, shaking his head, looking wretched and exhausted, but still silent, Arthur scrambled to his feet. “You don’t trust me with it, whatever it is? You trust them with your secrets, but not me?” He could feel his anger growing. Merlin was frustrating and infuriating and secretive and Arthur wasn’t having any of it. Apparently he didn’t know Merlin at all and that hurt more than he’d wanted to admit.

“Arthur, that’s not….” Merlin was trying to sit up, flinching as he did. “I trust you with my life.”

That only made things worse. Arthur had saved Merlin a dozen times or more and Merlin didn’t seem to care about that or him. Trust worked both ways or not at all.

He looked around, reaching down to find some of Merlin’s clothes, and tossing breeches and a scarf toward him. His voice rising, Arthur said, “But not your secrets. Not this or with anything else apparently.”

There was movement around him, the men waking to shouts and anger. Arthur kicked out, Gwaine’s leg or maybe it was Percival’s and there was a grunt but not much more. But Arthur had had enough.

As Arthur turned around, looking at his half-awake knights, he realized that none of them had stood night watch, none of them had done their duty, instead, abandoning all propriety for a night of debauchery. That Arthur had not stood guard either, watching Merlin instead, just made him more furious.

Arthur began throwing things at them, chainmail, breeches, a boot or two, shouting, “We’re leaving. When we get back to the citadel, you lot will be lucky if I don’t dismiss you all from my service.” He kicked out again, into the dying fire, spreading ash and sparks around.

The knights scrambled up, began to dress as quickly as they could, and if Gwaine was wearing Leon’s shirt, and Percival’s chainmail ended up on Elyan, it didn’t matter to Arthur. He wanted to be gone. He wanted to forget that this night had ever happened. 

Merlin was struggling to his feet, swaying a bit as he did so. Glaring at Arthur, he shouted, “They did nothing wrong… unless it’s me you’re sacking.”

Arthur turned on him, scowling. “Just shut up and get the horses ready. We’re riding back to Camelot and I’ll decide what to do then.”

Gwaine spoke up, protesting, “He can’t ride yet. He’s still sore from….”

Twisting around, his hand gripping his sword, Arthur spat out. “Then you should have thought of that before you used him for your own pleasure, as all of you should.” He turned, frowning at each man as he did. Most managed to look sheepish, although Lance’s face was hard with shock. “If he’s that badly off, he can walk back.”

Gwaine wasn’t having it. “It’s ten miles.”

“It’s only a half a day’s walk. He’ll be back in time to serve me dinner, or else he’ll be left in the stocks overnight.” Arthur spun on his heel, looking straight at Merlin. “Isn’t that right, Merlin?”

When the others started to protest, Arthur said, “One more word, and it will be a full day and a night in the stocks and no water for him. Am I understood?”

The look on Gwaine’s face told Arthur that he was on a knife’s edge, that he was about to attack Arthur, no matter the cost, but Merlin stepped between them, raising one hand to stop Gwaine.

“Don’t, Gwaine, don’t. I’ll be all right.”

Gwaine was still glaring at Arthur, looking as if he was debating whether to go around Merlin or not when Lancelot stepped forward.

Lance knelt down on one knee to Arthur, said in a soft voice, “My lord, Merlin has neither sword nor shield. There are bandits in the area and he would be vulnerable. May I have your permission to stay behind and protect him until he is recovered enough to walk or perhaps ride behind me? If it please you, Sire.”

Arthur couldn’t say no, not when Lancelot put it like that. He was furious, but he didn’t want the idiot killed. Nodding, Arthur swept past Merlin, then went to see to his own horse. He ignored the arguments going on behind him, and as he rode away, all but Lancelot following, he refused to look back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine isn't happy with Arthur at all.

Gwaine stormed into Arthur’s room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Arthur was sitting at his desk, trying to look as if Gwaine’s posturing was nothing but a fool’s errand, one he could easily ignore. But Gwaine wasn’t having any of it. He stomped up to Arthur, placing his fists on Arthur’s desk, leaning over to glare at him.

“You are already close to dismissal, Sir Gwaine. If you wish to leave my service, just keep talking, and we can chase you out of Camelot like we did last time you forgot your place.”

Gwaine took in a sharp breath. They both knew that last time, Merlin had been there, Merlin of the kind heart, and sweet smile.

“He’s not back yet.” Gwaine growled down at Arthur, but Arthur merely let out a sound of indifference. “It’s been hours. Do you even care about him at all? After all he’s done for you?”

Arthur put down the quill pen, then laid aside the parchment he’d been working on, although truth be told, he’d written nothing for hours, just kept glancing out the window, watching the sun fall into dusk, worrying the entire time.

“I’m concerned that Lancelot has not returned with my manservant, yes.” Arthur looked up, his face deliberately bored. “As you remember, I promised Merlin the stocks if he didn’t return by supper and it’s nearly that now. Or are you taking his place, Sir Gwaine?”

“You are one heartless bastard, you know that.” Gwaine slammed down a hand, the inkstand on the desk wobbling, but Arthur grabbed it before it fell. “He could be in trouble. He could be dead.”

Arthur leaned back, watching Gwaine as he said, “Sir Lancelot is with him. Although I assume it more likely they are debauching each other by the side of the road instead of Merlin serving me the food that I’m sure should be on my table right now. After all, Merlin’s known for his proclivities and the knights seem to enjoy them as well. Or are you jealous that it’s not you with him, instead of Lancelot?”

Gwaine’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe it’s you that’s jealous? After all, we’ve had him before and you are too much of a prick to admit you want him, too.”

“You assume too much. Merlin is my servant, nothing more.” Arthur dipped his quill back into the ink, wrote a few words, then looked up again. “Are you still here? Perhaps you could find my wayward servant and send him along before the stocks are needed.”

At that moment, Merlin stumbled in, limping, carefully walking toward Arthur with a tray full of food. He seemed to hesitate when he saw Gwaine, but then squared his shoulders and put the tray down next to Arthur’s inkpot. “If that will be all, I’ve a stable to muck out.”

Arthur waved him away. “Go then and clean yourself up afterwards. I can’t have you stinking up the place.”

If looks could kill, Arthur should have been a greasy spot on the far wall. As it was, Merlin scowled at him a moment, then gave Gwaine a slight, embarrassed smile before shuffling out of the room.

Arthur watched him go, wanting desperately to call him back in, to ask if he were all right, if he’d forgive Arthur for being such a pillock, to tell him that Merlin was more than just a servant to Arthur, that he wanted to… but no, Gwaine was there. So instead, Arthur put on another mask, of boredom sliding into indifference.

But Gwaine was his own worst enemy because he never shut up, especially not when he needed to. He must have seen something, too, in Arthur’s face, because he said, “So that’s the way of it.”

Trying to ignore him, Arthur wrote another word onto the parchment, then set aside the quill. “Are you still here?”

“The first time we fucked him, he’d fallen into an icy pond. We thought he was going to die. You know how it is when it’s snowing and there’s no fire.”

Arthur looked at Gwaine, horror creeping in as he realized what he was saying, that Merlin had almost died, that Arthur didn’t know, wouldn’t have been able to say good-bye until it was too late.

“Last resort is body warmth, but you know that. So we took off his clothes, it was bloody hard because they’d frozen and all we had were knives and swords, and wrapped him up in our cloaks.” Gwaine walked over to the open window, looked out into the darkened sky, then turned back, arms folded, and said, “It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t even shivering any more. So we, all of us, stripped bare and draped ourselves around him. A giant cocoon of wool and warm bodies.”

Arthur grunted, trying not to give anything away. The picture of Merlin dead against the snow was chilling his heart, but he couldn’t let Gwaine know that.

Giving a little huff of annoyance, Gwaine said, “I don’t remember who made the first move. It wasn’t Merlin, I know, but there were brushes of skin against skin and Merlin was moaning softly. I’m not sure if it was because he was warming up or _warming_ up, but his lips were there, so soft, so red and moist and I just wanted to make sure he was okay, that he was still breathing.”

Visualizing it so well, knowing that he too would have wanted to taste Merlin’s mouth, Arthur nodded.

Gwaine smiled at that. “He was breathing all right, and moving, and his hand was brushing against us and it wasn’t long before there was tongues and fingers and cocks flush against each other. The cold snow overhead and the warm rush of arousal and it was glorious.”

Arthur’s jealousy spiked. He could imagine it all and it made his blood boil, to know that they had been there before him, had taken Merlin then. That Merlin had enjoyed it. Without Arthur.

Moving away from the window, sitting down on the corner of Arthur’s desk, Gwaine picked up an apple from the tray, and took a bite. The juice running down his chin reminded Arthur of what his knights had done to Merlin last night, and he was furious again.

“So you took him when he was vulnerable, and then what? Take him again whenever you like, hound him into giving in, surround him until he couldn’t say anything but yes?” Arthur snarled, the horror still there and the fear that he’d not known enough to protect Merlin from his own knights.

Gwaine must have seen something in Arthur’s eyes. Scowling, he shook his head. “It’s not like that. Merlin is lonely. Even surrounded by friends, there is something in his eyes that makes most people want to keep him safe, make him happy.” Gwaine took another bite. “I asked him if he wanted to have another go, cheer him up. You know, Princess, that he hangs on every word out of your mouth. That every insult of yours is like a cut, every dismissal a blade to the heart.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Arthur stared up at Gwaine. “He gives as good as he gets. Those names he calls me, the way he stands up to me, makes me look a fool at times. You must be mistaken.”

But Gwaine just laughed. “You are a fool if you think that.” The apple was half gone, and Gwaine put it down, a mess of juice and pulp staining the parchment Arthur had been writing on. Typical. “At first, he said no, but you must have done something stupid because he came to me a few days after and said yes, but with one stipulation, that it couldn’t just be me, that it had to be all of us. He didn’t want to hurt me when his heart was already taken. And there was something about destiny, too, but it didn’t make sense.”

“And you agreed, knowing that he’d be sullied in that way?” Arthur said, furious again. “I thought you cared for him.”

“You arse, I know you have your own code of honour, but Merlin needed me, and I wasn’t willing to say no. And the others agreed. And yes, I do care for him, enough to let him go if that would make him happy. Would you?”

Arthur gave up writing his speech. The parchment was ruined anyway. “Of course, I would. He’s… a good servant.”

Gwaine shook his head, sending Arthur a disbelieving glare. “Is that all he is?”

“What else could he be to a prince?” Arthur raised one eyebrow, daring Gwaine to contradict him. He didn’t wait long.

“You certainly are blind, then. A self-inflicted wilful blindness at that.” Gwaine leaned forward, getting close enough that Arthur could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Voice low and sultry, Gwaine said, “If that’s truly the case, then you won’t mind if I have a go, just me and not all the knights. I think he could grow to love me if he knew you didn’t… love Merlin.”

Arthur sputtered at that. The idea was ridiculous. “I… what? I don’t love Merlin.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.” With that, Gwaine snatched another apple off Arthur’s tray and sauntered out of the room. How he could do that with such effortless ease was beyond Arthur.

But Gwaine left Arthur with too many questions and no answers at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of porn. Look away if it's not your thing.

Merlin stormed into the room a few minutes later. He hadn’t gone to the stables yet, but he was still stained with things Arthur didn’t want to think about. At least his hands were relatively clean. Arthur could tell because Merlin was currently waving them around, looking as agitated as Arthur had ever seen him.

“Gwaine is a liar who lies. You can’t believe anything he says.” Merlin was wincing and stumbling and making little pained noises, but it didn’t stop him from glaring at Arthur.

Arthur just stared at him, then took his quill for another go at that damnable speech. As he looked down, he said, “Are the stables mucked out yet?”

There was a furious growl, and when Arthur glanced at Merlin, he could see him flushed with anger. “No, you arse. And just so you know, I know that there are stable boys to take care of the mucking out so why you are sending me off to do their jobs is entirely prat-like superciliousness.”

Throwing down the quill, Arthur leaned back, trying to look entirely uninterested in Merlin’s tirade. “So how is Gwaine lying again?”

Merlin stopped his pacing, scraping his fingers through his hair, then throwing up his hands, he scowled down at Arthur, shouting, “I do not love you. You are the prattliest prat I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet and I would never fall for the likes of you. Clotpole.”

Arthur didn’t believe him. He’d dismissed Gwaine’s accusations because it was Gwaine making them, but the way Merlin was reacting, there had to be some truth in it. And if Merlin did really love Arthur, then by the gods, he’d prove just how much he loved Merlin, too. Gwaine wasn’t always right. It hadn’t been wilful blindness so much as Arthur protecting his heart, but now it was time to find out just how much love there was between them.

Arthur waited a moment, watching Merlin’s face growing more and more flushed, then turning nervous, as if Merlin realized that he’d said too much. Shifting from side to side, biting his lip, looking entirely desirable, no matter how filthy he still was, Merlin said, “Gwaine isn’t….” 

“Do you love him?” Arthur said.

Merlin’s eyes narrowed, a sharp scowl on his face. His hands were busy again, waving in the air as he turned round and round in a circle. He was shouting again, too.

“I… no. How dare you ask me that? After what you witnessed on patrol? And by the way, it was hell getting back here on time. I’ve aches in my backside and we were taking too long and I had to ride the damn horse. You arse.”

Merlin stopped then, hands flat against Arthur’s desk, in exactly the same spot that Gwaine had been minutes earlier. Arthur moved the inkpot to the far side, the apple-stained parchment, too, out of Merlin’s reach.

Arthur leaned forward, glaring up at Merlin, and slow and deliberate, said, “Maybe next time, don’t get fucked by my knights, then.”

Jerking back, blinking as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Merlin said, “Did you… did you just say fucked? I thought you posh pillocks didn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“I thought it an appropriate verb this time.” Arthur shrugged. “And I know exactly what it means.”

Defiant, Merlin stood his ground, arms crossed against his chest, scowling. “At least, I enjoyed it. You just sat around watching, like some kind of pervert. Maybe next time, you could participate.”

Arthur stood up then, straightening his shoulders, and walked over to where Merlin was standing, close enough to touch. He said, “There won’t be a next time.”

“There… won’t?” Merlin looked for a moment as if he’d been pole-axed. Then as he seemed to process just what Arthur was saying, he turned furious again. Leaning forward, face close enough that they were sharing the same air, Merlin’s voice was rising fast. “As if you can tell me no. I’ll do what I damn well please and to hell with you.”

“I’ll tell the knights that you are off-limits and that includes your precious Gwaine.” Arthur waited for the explosion and it wasn’t long in coming.

“You… dollop-headed toad. No, not even a toad. You are the pond scum under the toad’s fingernails. I think the toad has fingernails, but it doesn’t matter because you are still a conceited, condescending, egotistical, puffed-up excuse for a clotpole.” Merlin backed up, began pacing the floor, talking half to himself, glaring at Arthur as he passed back and forth in front of him. “I’ll find someone else then. I hear the stable boy is free once he’s finished mucking out the stables. Or the baker or….”

Arthur reached out, grabbing onto Merlin’s arms, holding him captive. “Everyone is off-limits to you, Merlin.”

“You… what? You can’t… I, gods you are such a prat.” Merlin struggled to get out of Arthur’s grasp, but Arthur was a trained knight and Merlin was not. When he realized that Arthur wasn’t letting go, he shoved his face close to Arthur’s and said, “I’ll use the sex toys then, that Gaius has hidden in the trunk behind his potion cabinet.”

Arthur gave a little smirk. “Confiscated. And I know about the other trunk, as well.”

Merlin’s bewilderment was almost funny. It was clear that Merlin hadn’t known about the other trunk. Perhaps, if things went as Arthur hoped, Arthur would show him just how those items were used.

But Merlin’s confusion lasted only a moment. “Are you going to cut off my hands, too?” He gave another great heave and Arthur let him go this time. “Because I kind of need them for mucking out the stables and pouring your damn bath water and bringing up your supper although you could do with a bit of a miss of all that herb-encrusted capon once in a while.”

“No need. I’ve a use for your hands.” Arthur glanced down at them, long and delicate and perfect for the things Arthur wanted to do to him.

“You do?” Merlin sounded bewildered again, as if he couldn’t keep up with what Arthur was saying.

Moving closer, forcing Merlin to back up step by step, it wasn’t long before Merlin was trapped between Arthur and the cold stone wall. Arthur put his hands up, caging Merlin in.

Merlin looked around, at Arthur’s hands on either side of Merlin’s shoulders, at the way Arthur’s body was close enough to feel Merlin’s heat. His eyes darkened, even as he seemed to struggle to remain still.

“Gwaine isn’t a liar, is he, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, leaning in, his breath hot against Merlin’s ear.

Merlin didn’t move away, just let out a startled gasp, breathing hard a moment before he said, “Of course, he is. He spreads the most awful rumours and then we have to go around and tell everyone how it’s just not true.”

Arthur pulled back a little, staring into Merlin’s eyes, then whispered, hot and slow, into Merlin’s other ear, “He says that you almost died when you fell through the ice, that you’ve been chasing lust ever since because you think love is beyond you.” He waited, drawing out the moment. “That you love me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who could love a prat like you?” But Merlin’s protest sounded flat, almost desperate.

One of Arthur’s hands moved to cup Merlin’s cheek, his thumb playing with Merlin’s swollen lip. Merlin let out a little groan, watching him as Arthur said, “Will you let me touch you then, like the knights did?”

Merlin’s breath caught, staring into Arthur’s eyes, looking bewildered. He pushed Arthur’s hand away, trying to shove past him, but Arthur was determined, too. Still caged between the stone and Arthur’s heat, Merlin said, “I… what the hell is going on, Arthur? You didn’t want me before. What changed?”

Arthur reached down, captured both of Merlin’s hands, pushed them up beside Merlin’s head, holding him still. “I’ve always wanted you. I just didn’t think that you’d let me in.”

“I… what are you doing?” But Merlin didn’t pull away.

“I’ve a use for your hands.” Arthur said, then took Merlin’s right hand, pushed two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them. They tasted of come and debauchery and Merlin, and he sucked on them hard, his tongue feeling the ridges there, exploring.

Merlin’s eyes widened, turned black as night, as his chest rose and fell, quick and frantic. Merlin was biting on his lip again, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “I… what?”

Smiling, still wetting fingers, Arthur pulled Merlin’s other hand down to brush across Arthur’s hard length, keeping it there.

He must have realized that Arthur wasn’t playing any more, that he was serious. He watched Arthur using Merlin’s wet fingers to wipe across Arthur’s mouth. “Do you want to fuck me? Like they did?”

“No, not that.” He let Merlin’s fingers go, although he kept Merlin’s other hand hot against Arthur’s cock. “I want you, but only if it’s just us. Not because of lust or loneliness or to chase the dark away but together, finding something more. Not love if you don’t love me, no matter what Gwaine said and I won’t require it of you,” He glanced down at Merlin’s hand squeezing him there. “But I need your consent, Merlin. Do you? Consent?”

“Yes, I… yes.”

That’s all it took. Arthur swept in, pushing Merlin into the wall, his mouth on Merlin’s, tongue searching deep inside. His chest trying to bring in air, one hand holding Merlin’s captive against his cock, his other hand pulling on Merlin’s hair, his neck, dragging him in so close that neither of them could breathe. Arthur was almost blinded by lust and he let go of Merlin’s hand, was using fingers to loosen Merlin’s laces, to open him up so that Arthur could pull on Merlin’s cock, reach down to thrust wet fingers into Merlin’s waiting entrance.

It was soaked there, the smell of come strong, and Merlin was making pained noises, but Arthur didn’t stop. He knew that Merlin wanted this as much as he did, was still unlacing Arthur’s clothes, shoving a hand up his tunic to play with hair and nipples, matching tongue with tongue, groaning pleasure into Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur’s cock was swelling hard against Merlin’s hand, the pleasure twisting upward as Merlin played him, swiping a finger against the head, smearing pre-come, then dragging more bliss into what was between them.

Arthur’s fingers were busy, too, reaching down into Merlin, trying to pull more intensity, trying to wipe away whatever he’d had with Gwaine and the others. But the angle was wrong and much as he wanted it, Merlin was panting then, not with pleasure but pain.

That cut into his brain, the whimpering noises, the mixture of Merlin moaning Arthur’s name and what sounded like agony.

Much as he wanted to dive in, he couldn’t, not if Merlin were only doing this because Arthur asked. Not if he’d caused Merlin more torment that pleasure.

Arthur shoved himself away, looked at Merlin’s face, seeing it crowded with pain and worry and loss. But even so, Merlin was reaching for him, not willing to let him go.

“Merlin, stop, stop.” Arthur pulled Merlin’s hands away, holding them captive. “Is this… is this hurting you?”

Merlin leaned back, panting, his face painted with misery. “I’m sore, from them, from last night, and the ride and… but I don’t want to lose this chance. Don’t make me wait, Arthur, please.”

Arthur reached for him, pulled him close. He nuzzled Merlin’s hair – although he’d deny it, and said, “I won’t hurt you. We can leave this for another day.”

“No, no, it will be fine. I’m…” Merlin was hiding his face in Arthur’s chest, with every word trying to be brave. “I want it, Arthur, I want you so much.”

But Arthur didn’t want brave. He wanted to share a moment of ecstasy between them. “Listen to me. You aren’t fine. I can see the pain on your face even now. But if there’s a way, will you let me take it?”

Merlin nodded, uncertain but with a little smile.

That was enough. Arthur swept down, picking up Merlin into his arms, much as the idiot was complaining about not being a girl, and gently lay him on Arthur’s bed. And then with lots of further protest, all of it ignored, Arthur stripped him bare, his hands and tongue lingering on the crease of hip to thigh, the back of his knees, an ankle, the swell of his buttocks, those delicious nipples that Arthur licked until they were hard and swollen. There were bite marks everywhere, but Arthur kissed them all, taking his time to lavish attention on each one, then bit Merlin there again in the same places, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Arthur stripped, too, because Merlin insisted on it. And there were hands and tongue and skin against skin. It made it hard to concentrate.

It must have worked a little because Merlin’s cock was full and leaking and he kept begging Arthur for more. But Arthur was careful not to push his fingers back into Merlin’s entrance or even nudge it with his cock, much as he wanted to. It was still too swollen. 

Instead, Arthur pulled out oil, and drizzled it on Merlin’s fingers, then guided him to Arthur’s hole, let Merlin shove those long fingers inside.

It didn’t take long before Arthur was ready. Merlin was skilled, almost as much as Gwaine must be, and he was reaching for Arthur, but Arthur shook his head and pushed Merlin back down into the soft covers.

Climbing over him, positioning Merlin’s cock just so, Arthur bore down. Merlin was full and huge and wet and it didn’t take long before Arthur was seated, just so, the hair on Merlin’s groin rough against Arthur’s buttocks.

He leaned down, kissing Merlin’s mouth, watching for any signs of pain and finding none. Then he moved, searching, searching for that wonderous place inside of himself. And when he found it, still he didn’t speed up, much as he wanted to. He remembered how Gwaine had brought Merlin to the edge of oblivion and back again, waiting until Merlin pleaded for release.

He wanted to give Merlin the same or more, wanted him to remember this night for the rest of eternity. And so he watched Merlin’s mouth, and the way his eyes would blacken, the way his fingers dug into Arthur’s thighs. Arthur leaned down, biting Merlin’s hardened nipples, then scraping his fingernails across Merlin’s soft belly, played with the skin between cock and balls, making Merlin shiver in delight and desperation.

Arthur pulled Merlin back a dozen times from the brink, so much so that it was beginning to hurt, and there was one final thrust, and Merlin poured himself into Arthur, crying out Arthur’s name.

Only then did Arthur let go. Merlin, satiated and satisfied, wrapped his hand around Arthur’s cock, his fingertips pulling Arthur into ecstasy.

When Arthur came down from that glorious high, Merlin was licked Arthur’s come off his fingers, then turned and shoved his tongue into Arthur’s mouth. He could taste himself and there was Merlin, too, and a hint of something from the others but Arthur didn’t care.

Merlin was here and Merlin was his.

When he could breathe again, Arthur turned to Merlin, who was watching him with soft eyes and a smile of satisfaction. He looked edible and Arthur wanted to fuck him all over again, immediately and forever. But even more than that, more than just someone to bed and toss them aside when they were done, Arthur wanted love.

But before he could say anything, Merlin leaned over and kissed him, something gentle and sweet and shy. “I hope Gwaine was right about you. Because I’m not sure I can live with just one night. I know I’m just a servant, and honestly, you could toss me aside in the next minute, but I wanted you to know.” He looked away a moment, then seemed to gather courage and said, “I love you. I have for a long time and I probably always will. And if you don’t feel the same way, it’s alright, Arthur. Because I know that I’m a peasant and a fool and…”

Arthur shut him up with a kiss. “Lust is overrated.”

Merlin gave a little surprised snort at that. “All right…?”

“It’s love that endures. But I can’t say it because I just can’t…,” Arthur said. Merlin started to pull away, but Arthur grabbed on tight, not letting him go, instead shaking him a little, then brushing at his hair, following the line of neck until his hand was hard against Merlin’s chest, right above his heart. “But Gwaine, much as it pains me to admit, was right. About me, about you. But don’t even tell him that because we’ll never hear the end of it. And he’s not right about anything else – ever.”

Merlin’s hand covered Arthur’s own. “Gwaine will know anyway.”

“I’m sure he will.” Arthur leaned over and gave Merlin a short, hard kiss. “It can’t be anything more while my father is alive. He’d kill you for it and I couldn’t bear to lose you. But if there are times when we are out on our own, and you are cold and shivering and I am too, we could always share body heat.”

“Sharing body heat is good.” Merlin said.

“And next time, I’ll bring some of those toys from that secret stash and teach you a few things.”

“And I’ll make you shiver.” Merlin said, his smile turning heated.

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.


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